


Hey, Hiro I Remember Your Name.

by Prince_Jonah



Series: Could I have Saved you? [1]
Category: Big Hero 6 (2014)
Genre: Amnesia, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Memory Loss, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-24
Updated: 2015-03-24
Packaged: 2018-03-19 08:56:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3604134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prince_Jonah/pseuds/Prince_Jonah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tadashi survived the fire, but at a price. He can't remember anything and the doctors for some reason could not find any of his records, lost without anyone in the world it seemed. Things slowly start to come back to him, but it's all too late when he finally remembers who he had left behind on that tragic day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hey, Hiro I Remember Your Name.

**Author's Note:**

> I do not have a beta, so forgive me for any mistakes.

What's this bright light? Why am I moving? Why are there strange voices around me? Why... Who am?

  
"Sir, sir, can you hear me?" A women's voice practically yelled next to my ear. I opened my mouth to respond, nothing was to be heard though. My mouth and throat were far too dry and it felt like my world was spinning far too fast to form coherent thoughts. I simply nodded instead. My vision started to blur and my head rocked back on forth with the spinning of my head. "Do you know your name,” Her voice got frantic towards the end. “Sir, sir, stay with me!” Everything was a jumbled mess after that.

  
I woke up some amount of time later. I was in a grey walled room with white tiled floors. Two chairs sitting against the wall in front of me and my bed was a few feet away from a large window that was overlooking a lake. Machines were connected to my left arm, one was a needle connected to bag full of fluid that I couldn’t remember what the name of is was and the other connected to my index finger to a monitor with numbers and showed my heartbeat. My whitish-blue sheets clung to my legs when I tried to move them, a sharp pain jabbed at the right side of my body. I looked over to my right arm that had bandages covering most of the appendage.  
I felt from my shoulder all the way across my chest, fear struck me when I could feel the uncomfortable burning sensation across my chest and the lumps of (hopefully) the bandages. Why am I here? What the hell happened to me? I looked around the room, nothing giving away why I was here or who I was. Someone came in just then, nice looking older woman with brown hair with a few streaks of grey here and there. She was dressed in blue matching clothes and has a clipboard in her hand.

  
“Well it’s nice to see you up,” She smiled and wrote something down on the piece of paper. “How are you feeling?” I looked away from her down to my hands on my lap. How was I? How do I know how I am? I don’t remember what it’s like to not know if I’m feeling okay or not, but I’m pretty sure I wasn’t feeling all that great.

  
“I don’t know,” I replied quietly, looking back up at her.

  
“Mhm,” She scribbled another thing down. “And why is that?”

  
“I… I don’t remember…” She wrote something down again.

  
“Do you know your name sir?” She asked in a more serious tone. I recognized her from blurry images that flashed through my mind, making my head hurt a little.

  
“No. I remember you though. You were with me when…” I was at a brick wall. Where had I seen her face before? She smiled before one again writing down something, it was starting to irritate me for some reason.

  
“Do you remember anything before that?” No. No I didn’t. Why is that? Why am I here? I asked myself again.

  
“No,” I replied in an even quieter voice. “Why am I here?”

  
“You’re here because you were hurt during an accident at what we assume was your college, but we can’t seem to find your records in the database there or anywhere else in the medical or state database.” I lifted my good hand to cover my eyes.

  
“So no one knows where or who I am…?” I asked, holding back the urge to cry.

  
“No, no one.”

  
A week had gone by since I woke up. My doctor had told me that I had been asleep for almost two months from an induced coma to keep me from hurting myself and to give time for my wounds to heal. I had a large ugly scar starting to form from the burns across most of my chest, barely reaching the other side, leaving my left arm virtually untouched. The burns  wrapped their way around my right arm all the way down to almost the tips of my fingers and up the side of my neck a little. During the time that I was there they were also trying to bring my memory back, but it was to no avail. Every attempt just ended up giving me major headaches afterwards for hours on end.

  
After two weeks had gone bye they started letting get out of my bed to walk, which was fantastic because laying in the hospital bed for hours on end and having to call for someone’s assistance just to use the bathroom was getting pretty damn annoying. Most of the doctors and nurses were nice, except for a select few who didn’t like taking their time with me when I couldn’t remember something.

  
Three weeks went by slowly and I often found myself staying up late laying in my bed wondering what kind of life I had before this. Do I have a family? Do they miss me? Are they even looking for me right now? Do they even care? I wondered if I had any siblings or if I had a mother or father who loved me. Was I the one who would cause trouble and always get into things, or was I the perfect loving son? The later seemed more likely.

  
A month rolled around and they still weren’t any closer to figuring out who I was. They estimated that I was around twenty by my bone growth- they had also tried using that to try and find who I used to be, but those documents were none existent as well. Like who the hell would wipe my records so I couldn’t find out who I am? Either that or I’m here illegally, but that was very unlikely. It would also be nice to actually have a name. I’m getting real tired of them constantly calling me “Young man,” And “Sir.”

  
Almost two months had gone by and it was the day that I finally made my break through. I was walking back to my room (a different one. They had moved me shortly after three weeks to the rehab area) with my physical therapist when I suddenly remembered something that I hadn’t remembered doing in the past four months here.

  
I was walking back with friends from somewhere. There were flowers blooming and I could almost remember the smell of them, _almost_. It was a small memory, but it was at least something.

  
“Why did you stop walking? Is something wrong?” He asked. I hadn’t even realized I’d stopped walking and caught back up with him.

  
“I think I just remembered something from my past,” I said unsurely. He turned to me, eyes a little wider than normal.

  
“Really? Would you like to share with me?” I nodded and told him about it. He nodded in return and told me that it was most likely a “true memory,” and that, “They tend to come back after a few months here and there with the type of amnesia I had.” This gave me hope. Maybe I’ll find out who I am soon? I desperately wanted to know who I was and am more than anything in the world.

  
He dropped me off back at my room and I changed into a new pair of grey sweatpants and matching t-shirt that the hospital had given me. I sat down onto my bed and turned on the T.V just in time to see the ending of a news story about a teen suicide. ‘A fifteen year old boy committed suicide today in-“I changed the channel before I could hear any more of it. I hated having to hear about stuff like that, why would someone do that to themselves? Is this life not good enough for them-? My thoughts were interrupted once again by another memory.

  
A boy, he had black hair, small and thin with large brown eyes. He looked like he could have been my brother maybe. We were sitting at a table in a kitchen and we were building something together. I pointed to a part and he nodded before someone else, a woman with shoulder length brown hair walked in and he excitedly showed her what we were going.

  
My Head started to hurt again after that and the memory faded. Who are these people and how can I get them back…?

  
Another month went by and my memories were coming back left and right. Mostly about random things like brushing my teeth or getting ready for bed, or even talking to the people who I assume are my friends. Could I call them that? I don’t even remember their names. I often found myself wanting to remember more about the boy though. Very few memories showed up from him and it bothered me greatly. Why was he the one I remembered least about? His face was often distorted or blurred when I thought about memories with that woman that I assumed we lived with.

  
That night I had a nightmare about a terrible fire. The way is burned my skin and the way the smoke made it hard to breathe felt all too real. Frantic screams rang out from all around me one in particular caught my attention, screaming a name that felt all too familiar.

  
_Tadashi!_

  
I jolted up from my bed out of my dream, sweat rolling off of my face. My clothes clung to my body and it felt like someone had cracked a brick over my head. I pulled at my hair with both of my hands and covered my ears, trying to block out the noise.

  
_Tadashi._

  
“Go away,” I whispered to myself.

  
_Tadashi._

  
My head felt like it was going to explode. I pulled at my hair harder while curling into myself more. The boy’s face suddenly appeared in my mind clear as day, not distorted in any way. He was holding onto my sleeve tightly. The smell of smoke filled my memory. “Tadashi, no!” He yelled at me.

  
“Someone has to help,” I yelled back. He reluctantly let go of my shirt and I ran into a building with flames bellowing out of it. I had burnt my hand on the bar when opening one of the glass doors in order to get inside. I looked around briefly before it became too much for me and I was about to dash for the doors before a horrible noise rang out from behind me and then after that I woke up in the hospital.

  
I snakingly untangled my left hand from my hair to look and see if my hand had a scar from burning it on the metal door. And to my horror it did.

  
“No,” No this can’t be- Everything came back to me all at once. The fire, the presentation, all of the bot fights that Hiro- Oh, God Hiro! Hiro, my baby brother. My little brother that I left behind along with everyone else. All my friends and Aunt Cass- I have to call for someone.

  
I pressed my call button and after waiting impatiently for around six minutes she came in, the bags under hear eyes made her look like she hadn’t gotten any sleep the past two days. “What is it? Do you know how late it is?” She grumbled.

  
“I remember everything.” She raised an eyebrow and squinted at me. “I,” I ran a hand through my hair, “I remember everything. I remember my name, my family, my friends, what happened after the presentation. I remember running in to save someone from the fire,” I exclaimed. She didn’t seemed as nearly enthusiastic about it at me, but she still smiled and called for a doctor to come see me in the morning.

  
Three days later I was actually leaving the hospital. They called a cab to pick me up and take me back to the Lucky Cat’s café, or rather my home that I hadn’t been to in over five months. We passed all the familiar streets and houses for once things were actually familiar to me. It seemed like such a long time, and it really was. He informed me when he dropped me off that the hospital had already paid him and he was on his way soon after that.

  
So there I was: Standing in front of my childhood home when I could be rushing inside telling my Aunt and brother how much I missed them. What if they don’t remember me like I didn’t remember them? I swallowed slowly and opened the door. The café wasn’t as nearly as nice as I’d remembered. It was actually rather dark and run down. There was no one in the building accept my Aunt who had just walked out from the back looking down as she wiped off her hands on her apron.  
“Welcome to The Lucky Cat’s café,” she looked up when she stopped in front of the register, “How my I help-“ She paused for a long moment. Her eyes lit up and filled with tears, “You.” She finished. He lip quivered as her arms dropped to her sides. I quickly walked over towards her and she practically tackled me, almost knocking me over. “Please, Lord tell me you’re actually here,” She sobbed. Her hug was uncomfortably tight but I returned the same tightness to show her I was there.

“I’m here Aunt Cass,” I choked out, my own tears of joy falling out of my eyes.

  
“I thought you were gone forever.” She cried into my shoulder.

  
“I know, so did I,” I cried softly. We stayed like that for a while before she finally pulled away from our embrace and wiped the tears away from her face with her apron. “I am so sorry… I hit my head and couldn’t remember anything- a-and they couldn’t find any of my records because they were removed from all the data records including the states.” She just started crying again, saying that she was just happy that I was here and gave me another long hug and a kiss on my cheek.

  
“Where’s Hiro?” I asked finally. Her smile instantly turned into a frown. “What’s wrong?” I asked hurriedly. Her eyes filled with tears again and she ran her hand through her hair, not looking at me for a long time and when she did I wish she hadn’t. I could see all the stress she had been through the past months and new wrinkles that weren't there before.

  
“He loved you so, so, so much. He just couldn’t accept that you weren’t here anymore.” She started sobbing towards the end again and I grabbed her by the shoulders and bent down to her level so I could look into her eyes.

  
“Where is he?” I asked again, panic filled my chest.

  
“He’s not here anymore,” She smiled sadly. Was she implying that he…? No.No, this isn’t possible. I let go of her and ran towards the stairs that lead to our shared bedroom and took the steps two at a time, almost tripping over my own feet when I reached the top. And before I knew it I was standing in his messy side of the room before his bed. A picture of him that was taken the day he got accepted into the college that Cass took just an hour before the fire was propped up against his pillow.

  
“What have I done,” I cried. My knees gave out from under me and I kneeled with my hands twisted into his sheets. “What have I done!?” I screamed. A soft comforting hand touched my shoulder as I violently sobbed. "This is all my fault! If I hadn't ran into that fucking building he," I got choked up and couldn't finish my sentence, but she knew what I was going to say. She kneeled down beside me and pulled me into a hug, resting her head atop of mine.

"It's not your fault sweetie. You didn't know this was going to happen." I hugged her back tight.

"Yes it is! He begged me not to go, yet I still went in." I looked up at her, she was crying, just like I was because it was my fault he was gone. It was my fault he killed himself. It's my fault that we're going through all of this pain. "I am so sorry," I cried. She pulled me into another tight hug and it didn't feel like she was ever going to let me go.

"It's not your fault," She paused for a moment, "He forgives you."


End file.
